PS I love you
by Angelicheartbeats
Summary: Arthur has a drunken affair with an unknown man. He goes to all costs to find out who wrote the note only to find it was the man he wanted most...USUK


**USUK – PS. I love you**

"Damn…" he groaned.

Arthur's bottle-green eyes flew open on a cold breezy morning. It was a fresh new day, he glanced down upon himself, a noise rang in his head from a hangover, he had really drunk too much last night but then reality struck. He couldn't remember a thing from the previous night but that wasn't all. He was stark naked! What the hell had happened last night? He wasn't sure if he wanted to know. The place beside him was empty however there was a large crease, as if someone had been laid there.

The Brit grumbled to himself and moved to get off the double bed. As soon as his feet hit the floor, an excruciating pain flew into his body, especially his backside. Now he really didn't want to know what happened last night. If it wasn't for the bed crease, you could barely tell anyone besides Arthur himself was there. That was the problem. He bent down in agony to pick up and pull on something to wear so he didn't waltz around nude. Once he dressed, he quickly scanned around the room and something white caught his eye.

He made his way over to the wooden nightstand beside his bed and picked up a white piece of paper with scribbled writing in blue pen on it.

"Arthur,

I don't think you'll remember my visit so I'm leaving. Last night was amazing. Sleep well my Artie.

Your one night lover.

P"

The rest of the note was ripped. The person who wrote it must of later torn it off. He wondered why, what could they have wrote on this little note that he later regretted and forced themselves to get rid of.

Arthur gave an irritated sigh; he shoved the note in his back pocket for later use before hopping on in the shower. It was whilst he was running his fingers through his dirty blonde hair with shampoo that he felt a strange fluid seep out from inside him and dribbled down his inner thigh. He removed his hands from his hair and wiped up the fluid with his finger. Whilst studying it carefully, he added the pieces of the puzzle together and knew exactly what happened last night, it was just a case of figuring out who it was that did it.

"Bloody hell..." he groaned, slamming his fist onto the shower wall, looking down, he was ashamed. It only bothered him more how he couldn't remember a thing. He was surely going to throttle whoever it was that had taken advantage of his drunken state last night.

_Tonight is the one thing left__  
><em>_And I haven't said it yet, I'm falling__  
><em>_And the writings on the wall__  
><em>_  
><em>_Today was misery__  
><em>_And I just can't believe this happened__  
><em>_And I finally broke down__  
><em>_She held onto my heart__  
><em>_But now my only star is falling__  
><em>_Its burning to the ground__  
><em> 

He tried to put the whole mess behind him as he stepped out the shower. After all, he had a meeting today and he couldn't slack off because of some itsy personal issue. Truthfully it bothered the English nation. He would have the chance to talk to a few people whilst he was there, he realised. Maybe he could get some answers.

Arthur made his way to the meeting and sat down in silence, just as usual. Once he had glanced around the room, he had noticed that the American country was nowhere to be seen. He frowned. What was that git up to? He thought.

He was about to leave after the meeting ended but then he heard that familiar voice he, oh, so hated.

"Mon chérie, what is bothering you?" the one and only Francis Bonnefoy said in a husky tone, wrapping and arm around the Brit. He growled and pushed his prying hands away.

"Get lost you bloody tosser, everything is fine" he lied.

"Feisty,"

"Belt up!" he exclaimed, standing up, his hands on the table. Francis only smirked when he saw the white screwed up paper poking out from Arthur's back pocket. He decided to gracefully snatch it. "Hey!"

Arthur tried his best to grab the paper off the French man. He unscrambled the note and began to read it. He raised an eyebrow.

_Now I'm crying out_

"Oh, so the stubborn l'Angleterre has finally found a lover," he teased. Arthur groaned.

"Do you recognise the handwriting?" he asked with a slightly hasty. He chuckled crudely.

"What are you talking about? You should recognise your own lover's handwriting. Or suppose, you were too drunk to remember what happened," he said. Arthur looked surprised.

"What do you remember about what happened last night?" he questioned. Francis' facial expression became more settled, slightly serious. He was keeping in his amusement of Arthur's confusion.

"You went drinking with Kiku," he began. Arthur snatched the note out of his hands and ran off.

"Kiku. Damn," he exclaimed as he ran away to find the Japanese man. Francis was crossed off his mental list of people it could have been last night. He noticed Kiku walking down the hallway, documents in hand. "Kiku!"

He turned around and noticed the British man.

"Oh, Arthur. What is it?" he asked politely. Kiku was always nice and friendly; it was hard to believe he would take advantage of him when he was drunk. He wanted to refuse to believe that thought. Though he could consider that behind that warm outer shell there was a cold, extravagant interior. He shook the thought from his head.

"We went drinking last night, right?" he mentioned. Kiku nodded. "What happened?"

Kiku blinked a little quicker at that moment.

"You got, really drunk," he admitted. "Gilbert came along and offered to buy you drinks. I had to leave soon from then on anyway so I left you in his hands, I'm sure we was all too drunk to stop and think about the situation,"

Curse that Prussian! He made a mental note that Japan was not the one who assaulted him. So, he went on his search to find Gilbert.

"Thank you Kiku," he thanked the Japanese man whom nodded in return and continued walking down the hallway. Arthur found his house and knocked. He really hated going to his house, it was always messy and unclean for a gentleman such as himself. The Prussian man walked over and opened the door.

"Haaah? England, what are you doing here?" he asked whilst leaning against the door frame. "Hurry it up, I'm in the middle of a game kicking West's sorry ass,"

"Last night, I was out drinking with you," Arthur stated. Gilbert nodded. "What happened?"

"I took you off Kiku's hands. You were really buzzed, too much to handle. That fat ass America took you home," he explained. Arthur nodded.

"That's all,"

Gilbert shut the door in Arthur's face.

Prussia was crossed off his list. Now he had to head towards Alfred. He hesitated before making his way to the American's house.

Would it really be so bad if Alfred had done that to him? He paused momentarily; the Brit had strong feelings for him, the sort of feelings that made his heart thump in his chest and his face flush red when he was around. However he knew he could never pursue a relationship like that with him again. Not after how he had hurt him so painfully in the revolutionary war. Even if he felt the same way, he didn't want to be hurt again. No, he didn't want to think about that. He began to make his trip to Alfred's house. He was ready for the consequences.

_Secret love, my escape__  
><em>_Take me far far away__  
><em>_Secret love, are you there__  
><em>_Will you answer my prayer__  
><em>_Please take me anywhere but here__  
><em>_Anywhere but here_

He approached the door to his house. He took a deep breath, even if the whole matter hadn't occurred, he would of probably had to ended up going to his house anyway, after all, it wasn't at all like Alfred to skip a meeting and the American never got colds or illness. His economy seemed well. Arthur knocked the door twice before barging his way inside.

"Alfred?" he called out. From the distance, the Brit made out the figure of Alfred, hamburger in hand, he munched on it much to Arthur's disgust.

"Artie?" he questioned back. There was an awkward silence between the two nations. "What are you doing here? I assumed you wouldn't want to see me,"

"Mind telling me why you weren't at the meeting this morning?" he stated seriously. Alfred chuckled.

"You really don't remember last night do you Arthur?" he replied. Arthur's heart stood still for a moment.

"No…"

_You're all I've got right now__  
><em>_No one else figures out this feeling__  
><em>_And how__lonely__it can get__  
><em>_These words can cut right through__  
><em>_Cause all along I've knew you're sorry__  
><em>_But you haven't said it yet_

"I assume you figured out that someone did that deed to you?" he questioned, already predicting the answer.

"Yes..." he said quietly. Arthur wanted to outburst on the fellow man but his heart was pulling him back. Something about Alfred really just pulled on his heartstrings and there was nothing he could do about it. He knew that and gave a hard swallow. Alfred walked closer to him and put his hamburger on the table then took a quick slurp of his coca cola. His hand reached out for a piece of ripped paper. He took it in his hand, clenching it tightly.

"Do you hate me?" he asked straightforwardly. The English nation was caught by surprise.

"W-What? No! I don't hate you idiot! I" Arthur exclaimed, once he realised what he was about to exclaim at Alfred, his words stopped dead in their tracks.

_But I won't forget_

"Arthur, I love you".

Arthur felt time and space come to a standstill.

_When we're together _

_Thoughts of her disappear _

_If I fell to pieces_

_You'd heal this pain I feel_

"Alfred…I…I don't know what to tell you…I-I love you but…this is impossible," he replied. The American frowned.

"Why? Why is it so wrong? You love me, I love you-"he began.

"Because I don't want to form another special relationship with you!" Alfred's eyes widened. "I don't want this to become special because if it becomes special, you might think the same way as you did before and hurt me again! The first time put enough strain on my heart as it is!"

Alfred's lips curved into a frown.

"Arthur…how can you think such a thing? How can you start to imagine an end before it's even started?" he exclaimed back at him, he grabbed hold of his meek shoulders and pulled him towards himself. "I won't do that!" Arthur grabbed Alfred's arms and pushed him away, a tear or two starting to form in his eyes.

"That's what you said last time!" he yelled, wiping the oncoming liquid trickling down his cheeks. Alfred forcefully grabbed the back of Arthur's shirt and pulled him into a hug, the American started letting tears run freely. The British nation couldn't help but clutch onto him back once he noticed the tears.

"Arthur…I love you and you love me and if you're saying that you don't trust me. Then I'll keep telling you how much I love you, over and over, until you believe me," he whispered behind a sob, nuzzling his face into Arthur's neck. Arthur's eyes narrowed slightly but then he smiled.

"Idiot…you are being sly, you think I'll listen if you cry…" he muttered. "I can give you a chance,"

Alfred smiled widely; he roughly took hold of Arthur's chin and kissed him passionately.

Secret love, my escape  
>Take me far, far away<br>Secret love, are you there?  
>Will you answer my prayer?<br>Please take me anywhere but here  
>Anywhere but here<p>

They kissed for a minute and Arthur looked up at Alfred with a compassionate smile.

"Thank you Artie, I love you," he whispered in his ear, licking the edge of it softly causing him to squirm.

"I love you too…" he replied. The piece of crumpled up paper slowly floated out of the American's hand and landed onto the carpet below him. It lay in silence between the feet of the two new lovers, unnoticed by them both.

The edges were ripped, the torn side of the note that Alfred wrote to Arthur after that lustful drunk night; what Arthur wished to know.

"PS. I love you"


End file.
